Invisible Touch
by puffabilly
Summary: Clint and Darcy are keeping their relationship secret, as who knows what will happen if the other Avengers don't approve. But secrets don't always last forever... For ArtificialAorta.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: There is a lot of made up science in this. So apologies to any actual astrophysicists who might read this. Just lump it in the same pseudo-science fluff that allows invisible flying aircraft carriers._

It had been a long twenty-eight hours in the lab. Two Red Bulls, a packet of Twizzlers and the fate of an Avenger were the only things keeping Darcy going. Being Jane's fulltime assistant was a great job, most of the time. A bit of adventure, a bit of filing and plenty of study time towards her second degree; an astrophysics science major this time, just to help her understand what Jane was talking about. Sometimes though, Darcy's job was just holding Jane together, as dating an alien god brought its own set of perils that weren't covered in the usual Cosmo advice column. Tonight was one of those nights. Twenty-eight hours ago, Thor had been in the middle of transporting back to Earth from Asgard when he, Mjolnir and the Tesseract that powered his travels blinked off the radar. Immediate panic stations.

Jane and Bruce had gone straight into scientist mode. Darcy might now be in her second year of a physics degree but what those two talked about; most of it flew over her head. But the general gist was Jane had a theory that the energy burst from when Thor disappeared indicated the portal had split in two. One part of the split had reached Earth and they needed to track the residue from that wormhole, or Einstein-Rosen bridges as Darcy was supposed to refer to it, to find the other branch of the portal where Thor had theoretically gone. Bruce had some experience in calibrating tracking systems and with some help from Tony Stark, they'd poured all the Avengers resources into searching for Thor across every dimension they could reach. Big stumbling block – there was a lot of dimensional space out there. The tracking program had started working fourteen hours ago and Jane had sat by the monitor ever since, waiting for a response. And Darcy stayed with her.

So it was now 4 am. Darcy was tired, running on caffeine and a little distracted with worry. So she momentarily forgot what was on her neck when she stretched out her arms and rolled her head around to release some tension. And Jane was only even looking vaguely in Darcy's direction because she was reaching across for some Twizzlers.

"Darcy," said Jane slowly. "What is that?"

"What's what?" Darcy said through a yawn.

"That... is that a hickey?"

Darcy immediately dropped her arms and snapped her head upright, making her hair fall again over the conspicuous bruise. "No."

"Yes it is. Darcy, really? You're 25, not 13."

"It's not a hickey Jane." Darcy rolled her eyes. "I burnt myself with a curling iron."

"That's the worse excuse I've ever heard."

"It's not an excuse." There was silence for a brief pause while both women reached for a Twizzler and chewed, eyeing each other up.

"Who is it?"

"JANE!" Darcy threw her half eaten stick at Jane in frustration. "Aren't you supposed to be watching the screen?" And then Darcy felt bad, because Jane's face fell. As if for a second, Darcy's love life had been a welcome distraction. So Jane went back to staring at the monitor and its never-ending cycles.

Luckily for Darcy, the awkward silence didn't last long. Bruce returned to the room, two cups of coffee in hand, closely followed by Tony and Clint. Clint at least brought a fresh bag of sugary snacks. Tony just looked like he'd rolled out of bed, which was quite possible. A few hours ago, Darcy had suggested that at least some of them should be ready to go into action mode, just in case Thor did need rescuing. Steve and Natasha had reluctantly agreed. Tony had left, though whether to sleep or find some diversion from the crisis in Pepper, Darcy could only guess.

"Anything yet?" asked Bruce as he looked over Jane's shoulder at the screen.

"No," was the small reply. Bruce deflated, looking at his watch and a frown creasing his brow.

"Chin up Dr Forster," said Tony as he sprawled in a nearby chair. "I'm sure Thor will come home from his bogus journey sometime soon"

"And then," Darcy added, trying to cheer Jane up. "We'll create an Everett phone so next time he gets lost, he can just phone home."

"When did you learn about an Everett phone?" Tony asked with an amused tone.

"A couple of months ago," Darcy replied with a slight tilt of her chin. "At my lecture. You know, that college place that those of us who aren't super geniuses go to so we can learn stuff." Clint snorted in amusement while handing Darcy another can of Red Bull. Jane however was sitting up straighter.

"Darcy, you're brilliant." Jane said slowly.

"And I'm brilliant... why?" Darcy asked in a puzzled tone. But Jane had spun in her seat, looking at Bruce.

"An Everett phone – a device designed to communicate between dimensions. Phones operate on a frequency to locate each other."

Bruce leaned forward intently. "You think we should change to a frequency search."

Jane shook her head urgently. "No, we should change to a frequency triangulation. Because I know Tony has data on Thor and how he calls for Mjolnir as part of an experiment to create automatically retrievable weapons."

"And Thor needs to start reading his disclosure agreements," Tony added with a resigned sigh. "But yes Dr Forster, I have that data."

"Then go get it," Jane said sharply. "And we can get something rigged to copy the frequency and bounce it back through the wormhole, seeking for those multiple points. If it works, we'll speed the search up by a factor of over a thousand."

"Nice job Miss Lewis," said Tony with a nod before he shoved himself out of the chair, calling on JARVIS to transfer the data and sticking his head between Bruce and Jane, adding his input to the calibrations.

"Very nice job," added Clint. He was standing just behind Darcy, so no one was able to see him graze his fingers up her spine before cupping the back of her neck in a reassuring squeeze. And the smile she offered up to him was purposely just genial and friendly. The rule was no touching or anything if other teammates were around. But they'd rushed a hug in the hallway a few hours earlier. Clint had murmured in her ear that he wished she could get some rest and Darcy had told him to get enough sleep in for the both of them. And they'd hugged each other tighter. So Clint taking the risk to give Darcy some tactile comfort right then; it meant the world. They were still going to have to talk about love bite placement, no matter how carried away they got in the heat of the moment. But that was something for later.

So Darcy was careful not to let her gaze linger on him too long as Clint left the room. Even one stupid look could give them both away. What Darcy didn't quite appreciate was that at 5am in the morning after no sleep, her judgement was a little impaired. So she might've kept her eyes on Clint a little longer than a friend would. And despite all the focus on finding Thor, someone else did notice.

* * *

Steve sat at the kitchen counter, absently chewing on a slice of toast. The toast was on the cold side but he didn't really notice. His mind was elsewhere on a moral conundrum.

"Morning," said Natasha as she slipped through the door. "Or afternoon, I guess," she amended, glancing at the wall clock. "Didn't realise how late it had gotten."

Steve gestured to the empty seat across from him on the counter. "I think everyone's body clock is a little off today. Especially the team who stayed up all night getting Thor back here."

"And now he's home, I'm sure they're all in bed by now." Natasha slid onto the counter stool, a glass of water in hand. She didn't expect her fairly innocuous comment to make Steve cough on his toast. "You okay?"

Nodding, Steve reached for his OJ and took a gulp. "Yes. Just... you're right. They're probably all tucked up, safe and sound." Steve swallowed down the last of his juice and dropped the glass on the counter a little hurriedly. "But maybe I'll go check. Make sure."

Steve knew Natasha was eying him up as he washed up his glass and plate. But she didn't ask why he was pouring a mug full of milk or why he was zapping it in the microwave. And she just nodded politely when Steve left, taking the cup of warm milk with him. Steve checked over his shoulder and when he was sure Natasha wasn't following him, he went straight up to Darcy's room.

Normally, Steve made sure to keep well enough out of other people's business. But it had been bugging him all day. He'd gotten up during the early hours of the morning after a few hours sleep and gone to check on how the search for Thor was going. He was just by the door to the lab when he'd seen two things: one was a burst of excitement about the search for Thor and the other was Clint with his hand on the back of Darcy's neck while she looked up with a smile Steve hadn't seen on her before.

Darcy's range of smiles was something Steve was familiar with. They'd spent a large amount of time together over the last couple of years, after Darcy had learnt of Steve's avoidance of reconnecting with the outside world. She'd pressed and pulled and forced him to see all the bright things still out there and in that time, with her equal kindness and tendency to push buttons, she'd become like a little sister to him. Steve knew the smile Darcy got when she was trying to persuade him to watch a movie that might be terrible but was oh-so-important in his pop culture education. There was also the wide beguiling grin she'd unleashed to get people to help her move when she'd decided the cost of the rent wasn't worth it when there was a spare bedroom in the Avengers tower. Though for Steve, his favourite was the way she'd beam, all her teeth showing, when she'd appear in the gym or hallway just to show off the latest grade her physics paper had gotten. But the smile she'd had for Clint – this was something new.

This wasn't some jealously thing. Steve also knew how Darcy looked when she was vulnerable. A little over a year ago, there had been an attack on the Stark building where Darcy and Jane were working on assignment. They'd escaped with minor cuts and bruises, but in the quiet of her bedroom, Darcy had cried on Steve's shoulder. She'd become friends with one of the other scientists, a girl her own age who was getting married in the fall. And then the roof had caved in and Darcy's friend was gone. So Steve had held Darcy and when Stark had identified the group responsible for the attack, Steve remembered the promise he'd made to Darcy, with her red-rimmed eyes, when she demanded he go beat the living crap out of the bastards. So he did.

And here Steve was now. He was hesitating outside Darcy's bedroom door. Because right now, he was fairly sure she was in a situation that was going to get her hurt. That would leave her broken hearted and while Steve wasn't a violent person by nature, he knew he'd be restraining the urge to do something painful to the guy who hurt her. And since in this case, it would be his teammate, Clint Barton, Steve could only imagine where that would leave everyone.

But maybe he had just imagined it. Everyone had been stressed and tired. He could've jumped to the wrong conclusion. So he'd just check in Darcy, make sure she was OK. Seeing if Clint was there... nothing to do with it.

Steve kept telling himself this as he knocked softly on Darcy's door. Just enough so she'd hear if awake but not loud enough to disturb her if she was asleep. But Steve heard the shuffle of Darcy's footsteps as she approached the door and the click as she unlocked it. She looked out blearily then smiled when she saw who it was.

"Hey," she said warmly, even if there was a tired rasp to her voice. Her hair hung in damp tendrils and there was a slight hint of soap in the air. "What you doing up here?"

"Just checking in. I thought I'd bring you some milk. Just in case you were having trouble sleeping."

Darcy gave a dopey smile as she took the mug between her hands. "You know me too well. I've been trying to catch some Zs but think I had maybe one too many Red Bulls at the 4am mark." She'd only opened the door enough to stand between it and the doorframe, hiding the view of the rest of the room. But she was wearing her favourite flannel pyjama set; an oversized red tartan print with sleeves and legs that swamped her frame. Steve might not have the widest range of experiences with women, but he was pretty sure Darcy was dressed for sleeping, not for romance. No, Steve was becoming more certain he'd just been paranoid.

"Then drink up and get to bed. I'll make some hamburgers and put them in the fridge for you for dinner." Darcy's smile turned into an excited grin and she went up on tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek.

"You're the best brother-from-another-mother a girl could ask for," she said softly. Steve resisted the urge to ruffle her hair and just simply wished her sweet dreams as Darcy slipped back into the room, closing the door with a click.

And Steve might have gone about his afternoon, happily content, if he hadn't passed the room Barton normally crashed in post-mission. The door had been left open and some of Clint's gear was spread around the place: jacket on a chair, sunglasses on the desk. Enough to make it clear he hadn't gone to his normal off-site apartment. Equally as clear was that the bed hadn't been slept in and as much as Steve wandered around the tower for the rest of the afternoon, he didn't find Barton anywhere.

* * *

Darcy blinked her eyes slowly as she woke. Clint's arm was wrapped around her side, the length of his body spooned up behind her and the heat of his skin seeping through her PJs. She vaguely recalled Clint stripping to his boxers before he'd crawled into bed with her, though the need to sleep had overruled any hint of lustful urges for both of them. Now though, the slow rise and fall of his chest told Darcy he was already awake. She wriggled her hand beneath the duvet until she'd intertwined their fingers together.

"Hey beautiful," he murmured.

"Hey sexy man," she replied softly. Clint pulled Darcy a little closer, stretching his leg to capture Darcy's thigh beneath him. She gave a contented sigh, snuggling back. She only glanced briefly at her phone, propped upright against the lamp on her bedside table, out of habit but the time showing on the screensaver made her groan. "Babe... I thought we'd set an alarm. If anyone notices you've been AWOL for the past six hours..."

Clint gave her a gentle squeeze. "Most of the team are in bed themselves. I don't think they're focused on what I'm getting up to."

"That's what we thought when you decided to bunk over and look who turned up on my doorstep. Steve almost busted us!" she retorted, keeping her voice low.

"But he didn't." Clint calm tone would've infuriated Darcy, if not for his laconic charm being so ridiculously attractive. "Lucky I remember how to hide in a girl's bedroom before her big brother comes bursting in."

Darcy snorted. "And I'm sure when they trained you in concealment skills in sniper school, this was totally the situation they were planning for." Clint laughed softly, muffling the noise against Darcy's shoulder. "And speaking of concealment," Darcy continued. "Hickeys. Jane noticed that giant love bite you left on my neck. I swear it's like you're trying to create a neon sign pointing to us blinking the message 'these two are totally boning.'"

And in one of those trademark Clint moves, he'd rolled Darcy onto her back with her thighs still trapped beneath his leg and brought their intertwined hands above her head before she'd even blinked. "Well, we are Darce. Or at least, we will be very soon."

"Don't use your sex god tricks on me," Darcy cursed her voice for getting breathy, trying to temporarily ignore his free hand as it began unbuttoning her pyjama top. "We talked about this. The others can't know."

"I did go read the Stark disclosure policy about employee relationships. I don't think he can extend that to one of his Avengers teammates."

"But I'm not an Avenger babe. I just get to hang around because I'm a glorified lab assistant. And if Tony or any of the others decide that I'm too young or too much of a distraction or some other disapproving stupid reason we shouldn't be together, you know I can be kicked out faster than a Kardashian wedding."

Clint paused in his removal of Darcy's shirt. Propping his weight on his elbow, Clint leant down and captured her mouth in an unexpected kiss. It was brief and urgent and when he broke it off, he kept his lips just a fraction of an inch from hers. "I wouldn't let you go," he said, eyes locked onto hers.

Darcy lifted her head to kiss him lightly before dropping back to the pillow. "I know. But I don't want you to have to make that choice. We just need more time to figure something out. 'Kay?"

Clint looked down at her for a little while before nodding. "Okay.

With a smile, Darcy slowly shifted her gaze towards where Clint's hand was resting on her chest. "And babe... any hickeys down there... totally acceptable."

Clint didn't need any further encouragement. With one hard tug, he yanked her shirt open and as his teeth grazed over the soft curves of her exposed skin, the opinions of their teammates became the last thing on their minds.


	2. Chapter 2

Steve was exiting from the boxing room, having spent some time with a punching bag to clear his mind, when he ran into Thor.

"My friend," greeted Thor, clasping Steve by the shoulder. "I have not yet had the opportunity to give you thanks. Jane tells me you were of great support to her and Darcy while I was lost."

"With all due respect, I didn't do much. Just brought a few meals to them." Steve shrugged off the compliment as he wrapped his workout towel around his neck.

"Providing sustenance is a worthy task. Something I have noticed the men of this world find beneath them for some reason. But Darcy has much praise for your burgers of ham."

Steve caught himself smiling. He'd found Darcy in the kitchen very late last night, sitting atop the counter with the burgers he'd left for her. She'd been in a good mood, even sharing her pile of fries with Steve and not fighting him for the last dollop of ketchup.

"Have... you talked to Darcy lately?" The words slipped out of Steve's mouth. He mentally kicked himself; he'd made the decision to leave this alone.

Thor's brows furrowed. "Darcy and I conversed upon my return. You were there also...?" Steve wouldn't have used the word 'converse'. After letting Jane have the first turn, Darcy had hurled herself upon Thor with a bear hug and a babble of exclamations about what an idiot he'd been for going off course and that she was happy he was back.

"I meant... never mind." Steve just nodded and began to walk away. But he'd barely taken a couple of steps and Thor was in front of him, blocking the hallway.

"Captain Steve," said Thor. "If something is amiss with Darcy, you should inform me. Immediately." Thor's tone was simply concerned, though Steve noted the set of Thor's shoulders meant he was unlikely to put up with any dodging of the subject.

"Not that I know of. For sure." Steve hesitated for a moment. Thor and Darcy were very close. Darcy and Jane even closer. Perhaps Darcy had already talked to them if something was going on with her and Barton. Maybe they'd already talked to her about the risks. "But has Darcy mentioned if she's... been seeing anyone recently."

The silence hung in the air for a painful moment before Thor's serious expression morphed into a wide grin. "My friend! Do you wish to court Darcy?" Steve couldn't find the words in time to stop Thor clasping his forearm in an approving gesture. "I approve of this union."

"No," Steve managed to get out. "I mean, Darcy is amazing but... I'm not asking your permission to date her."

Looking disappointed, Thor released Steve's arm and stepped back. "I am confused then why you ask?"

Steve resisted the temptation to sigh. These kinds of conversations were complicated enough at the best of times, let alone with intergalactic communication barriers. "It doesn't matter. I shouldn't interfere with Darcy's romantic life." Before Steve could even try to move past his teammate, Thor's had clasped his shoulder again.

"Friend," Thor spoke carefully. "We are like brothers. We have fought battles together. But Darcy is under my protection. If you believe her to be in some kind of peril, I must know."

The conflict in loyalty was impossible. Barton was an Avenger and a decent guy. But what was the phrase Natasha once used? There was red in his ledger. He was an assassin. He killed people as a profession. And Darcy might have the mouth of a sailor on occasion, but there was an untainted goodness to her that Steve didn't want to see the red bleed into. "I don't know for certain." Steve finally replied. "But," he added, heeding off Thor's objections. "If I find anything out, I'll let you know."

* * *

It took a couple of days but Darcy's sleep schedule was finally back to normal. Downside was that she'd lost her excuse for skipping her daily exercise. Not that Darcy was a fitness fanatic in any way, but after she'd encountered one villainous henchman too many, being able to run faster than the henchmen seemed a necessary life skill. So every day, she spent forty-five minutes on the treadmill in a very, very good sports bra.

Ponytail swaying back and forth and ipod playlist blaring in her ears, Darcy didn't hear the gym door open. But the sensation of being watched pricked her awareness and she soon noticed Clint leaning in the door frame, his sweat suit an indication he'd come for a workout. "Hey," Darcy said in greeting, popping out her earbuds though not breaking her stride.

"Hey," was the reply. Clint had folded his arms over his chest and the look he was giving Darcy made her stomach clench and her eyes roll at the same time.

"I don't think propping up the wall counts as a strength building session," she had to raise her voice over the noise of her feet pounding on the treadmill.

"Maybe not," Clint replied. "But the sight of you running is making me think of a different kind of exercise."

Darcy picked up her towel and threw it at him, though the towel fell several feet short. "Subtlety babe. Still important."

Clint smiled as he shifted out of the door. Picking up Darcy's towel, he walked to the treadmill and draped it back over the time counter. "You know you're killing me right now?"

And Darcy was tempted to hit the stop button and jump on him. But with a glance towards the open gym door, she shook her head. "You'll live."

Clint exhaled slowly, his gaze drifting slowly down Darcy's snug shirt and body-hugging gym shorts. "Debatable." But he stepped back and made his way to the weights area.

Darcy had to catch her own breath and refocus on pace. _Ignore him. Just run. Only fifteen more minutes. _She repeated it to herself a few times, purposely examining the small loops of fibre on her towel to avoid staring across the gym. But the clank of metal on metal caught her attention and her eyes flicked over to check on Clint. He was lying back on a bench and the metal noise was from the bar he'd stacked with a set of circular weights. He'd lost the sweat suit top and in a tight sleeveless shirt was beginning to slowly lower the heavy bar to his chest before pressing it up again.

Clint had great arms. Drawing a bowstring over and over did amazing things for a guy's muscle definition. Darcy was well aware of this. She'd already been wrapped in those arms a number of times. But damn it, she knew a whole bunch of seriously cut superheroes. She should be able to stop watching the way Clint's body was stretching and contracting, the bunching of his biceps and the ridges of his forearms tightening with the tension. Yup, she could stop watching any time she wanted...

With a small misstep, Darcy felt herself begin to stumble on the treadmill. She caught the sidebars and managed to jump off the belt before she face planted, her feet landing on the stationary edges of the ramp. There was a bang of metal and Clint was sitting upright on the bench, weights back on the rack. "You ok?" he asked.

Darcy nodded. "Totally. Perfectly fine." She would swear to anyone that the only reason she was out of breath right then was because of intense cardio. But the way Clint was smiling, it was unlikely he'd believe her.

"Done running yet?"

Ignoring the sub layers to his statement, Darcy shoved her towel to the side to read her LCD counter. "Nope. Still ten minutes to go." And with a determined just of her chin, Darcy jumped back on the belt and resumed her jog.

For a few moments, it was just the thump of her feet upon the treadmill filling the room. "You know, I think it's a little warm in here," said Clint. And Darcy focused very carefully on where her feet were landing as Clint slowly peeled off his shirt. _ Left foot. Right foot. Left foot. Right foot._ Through sheer stubborn willpower Darcy kept herself moving. And with casual extension, Clint reached for some heavy hand weights. Still sitting on the bench, legs straddled to either side, he took a weight in each hand and began curling them up and down.

Darcy was fairly sure this was some obscure torture method. But she would not break. Not even when a bead of sweat formed at his neck and slowly ran down his chest before disappearing into the dips of his abs. Darcy Lewis was a grown woman and she could ignore the tingling in her chest and the itch of her skin wanting to feel the press of him against her. Base desires be damned, she was not giving in.

And then the treadmill beeped and the belt started slowing. Darcy hit the stop button and leapt off the machine without bothering to stretch. There was only so much resolve a girl could have and she was reaching her limit.

Clint had dropped the weights and was running a hand through his hair as Darcy passed by. "You are a cruel man," she muttered, flicking her towel at him. With those ridiculous reflexes, Clint grabbed the towel and yanked Darcy back towards him. Catching her around the hips, Clint landed Darcy softly on the bench.

"You were running in those tiny shorts and that top and you're calling me cruel?" Clint had one eyebrow raised as his hands released Darcy who promptly swivelled on the bench to give him a face-to-face scowl.

"At least I kept my shirt on."

"I can help fix that situation you know."

Darcy folded her arms firmly. "Not a chance buddy."

Clint only smirked when he was in a playful mood and there was a definite smirk on his lips now. "Think I have a pretty good chance Darce."

Darcy shook her head as she slid herself away on the bench, only to feel Clint's leg catch hers and drag her back. "Nope. Access denied buddy."

And almost too fast for her to see, Clint's fingers were up under the hem of her shirt, brushing under her ribs. Bad enough that she was ticklish there but caught off guard, Darcy squealed in protest.

"Stop that," she had to unfold one hand to swat his away.

"Sure?" With her arm stretched mid-swat, Darcy had left her side vulnerable and Clint snaked his arm around her waist, smirk still in place as he tugged her closer.

Determined to not lose entirely to her boyfriend's stealth moves, Darcy braced her palms against his chest and tried to push back, squirming against the arm hooked around her. "I swear to god Clint Barton, you release me right now or I am totally going to kill you."

So of course, it was the exact moment Darcy said those words, her voice raise in annoyance, that Thor and Steve were passing the gym.

"BARTON!" The roar of Thor's voice must've echoed through the entire building. In took a split second for Darcy to appreciate that a playful tussle between lovers could look very very different out of context. Especially if no one else knew they were lovers.

Downside of being around superheroes: a split second was plenty long enough for Darcy to find Steve had hoisted her from the bench and Thor had knocked Clint to the floor.

Upside of being around superheroes: Thor's yell brought the rest of the team bolting down in a matter of moments. Natasha, Bruce and Tony hurtled into the gym to find utter pandemonium had broken out. Every piece of equipment was overturned. Steve was gripping a yelling and struggling Darcy while Clint was bleeding and ducking to avoid a weight Thor had just thrown at his head.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," muttered Natasha before she, Bruce and Tony threw themselves into the fray.


	3. Chapter 3

Bruce understood anger. Better than most people, for obvious reasons. Throughout the demolished gym, it was as if anger was pulsating through the air. Steve was radiating a tense, controlled fury. The tension almost throbbed down the Captain's shoulder, though the arm locked around Darcy was still being gentle with its hold. Darcy, however, was thrashing and kicking violently against the grip. And the language coming out of her mouth was a blur of curses and babbling protests.

Ultimately Thor was the real danger. Bruce and Tony had grasped on to his arms but the Asgardian was still coiled in rage; the muscles in his limbs were stretched tight, ready to unleash again. Bruce knew that unless Tony suited up or The Other Guy popped out, they couldn't physically restrain Thor. The pause in the brawl was only due to the rest of the team jumping in and the slightest spark could ignite it all again.

"So... let's all calm down." Natasha held up her hands in a peaceful gesture, even as she shadowed Clint to keep him behind her. "That includes you Darcy." Mid-stream of her tirade, Darcy became quiet. Bruce was slightly envious of Natasha's ability to make miracles happen, even as he noticed that Darcy's foot still kicked at Steve's kneecaps while he remained immobile.

"I can handle this Nat," muttered Clint's voice from behind his human shield.

"Obviously. Great job so far." Natasha grumbled with her attention still on Thor. Bruce caught her eye for a second and she grimaced in response.

With a whoosh of displaced air, the Iron Man Mark X suit arrived in pieces and rapidly formed itself around Tony. Clearly Tony wasn't going to trust the peace lasting. "You heard our favourite Russian. Everyone take five and then take a step back. There's only room for one angry smash beast on the team."

"Thanks," Bruce added mildly.

"He," Thor's finger jutted out, pointed towards Barton. "Was committing an assault upon Darcy."

The Hulk rippled beneath the tight restraints Bruce kept on him. Only the simple fact that Bruce struggled to believe that Clint would do such a thing prevented the anger taking over. Darcy had been part of the extended Avengers 'family' for a couple of years now and it was unfathomable that any of them would even deny her the last pop-tart, let alone lay a hand on her.

"He was not assaulting me," snapped Darcy in response to Thor's accusation, finally managing to get a coherent sentence out. She'd stopped kicking Steve and was instead trying to squirm out of his arms, to little avail.

"The Captain and I both saw it," growled Thor. He stepped forward and while Bruce managed to maintain his grip, his feet were also dragged a few inches across the floor. "He could be under the influence of another evil force."

Silence filled the room. "You're not, right?" Natasha said over her shoulder.

"Not last time I checked," replied Clint lightly. He was slowly edging around the room with Natasha still mirroring his footsteps.

"Darcy was yelling for Barton to release her," Steve finally spoke. His voice was subdued but everyone still heard him clearly.

"If you'd just let me explain..." Darcy began.

"You can explain babe. Right after Rogers takes his hands off you." The angry grit to Clint's words snapped Bruce to attention. Barton had been moving steadily throughout the standoff but Bruce had assumed it was to avoid another swing from Thor. However Clint had in fact been inching closer to where Steve was holding Darcy and the tense set of his jaw was a beacon that Clint's own fury was bubbling near the surface. Which for Barton, one of the more rational members of the team, was near the equivalent of a murderous rage. So when he lunged towards Steve, Bruce wasn't surprised that Barton didn't hold back. If the Captain hadn't been a genetically modified soldier, the attack Clint unleashed would have broken his arm.

Bruce wasn't completely sure if Clint had just acted on his wrath or if he had simply planned to force Steve to act. But either way, the Captain had to release his hold on Darcy. Who then promptly beat the rest of the Avengers before they could intervene; with apparent disregard for the fists that threatened to start flying between Captain America and Hawkeye, Darcy shoved herself between the two. A hand on each of their chests, she tried to push them apart.

"Time. Out. Everyone." Steve and Clint were forced to take a step back – not from Darcy's actual shoving motions but to avoid crushing her. But as Bruce made eye contact again with Natasha, she nodded tensely. With Thor still tense behind him and now the other two just waiting for an opportunity, one wrong word could set the whole room off again.

Taking a deep breath, Darcy turned her face up towards Rogers. "Steve," she pleaded in a very soft voice. "If you have ever trusted me just the tiniest bit, you'll stop this. Right now."

"Darcy..." Steve said warily.

"Please..." And Darcy put everything into that one word. It was easy to see Steve's thoughts play out – there was a reason he never played poker – there was conflict, hesitation and the immense affection he had for the young woman. And slowly, the anger drained from Rogers's body. He shifted backwards, his own hands coming up in a surrendering gesture, even as Darcy's palm fell from his chest. The distrust didn't leave his eyes entirely, with a steely gaze still directed at Barton. In response Clint put an arm around Darcy, holding her close to his side.

"I am confused," muttered Thor.

Darcy finally directed her attention towards the Asgardian. "Thor... buddy... I love you. But I am totally calling your mother to tell her you tried to kill my boyfriend."

"Your..."

"Boyfriend," repeated Darcy. "Lover. Beau. Paramour. Do you want me to demonstrate?"

"Please don't," said both Natasha and Bruce in unison.

* * *

"Sit." Natasha pointed towards the table in the centre of the large meeting room that everyone had been dragged into. "Two on one side, two on the other." Even if it killed her, Nat was going to get this resolved. God knew what they'd destroy next otherwise.

With mildly sheepish expressions, Thor and Steve slid into their high-backed seats. Clint, with an icepack pressed against his head and finally back in his shirt, calmly took a seat opposite them. And Darcy – she slumped into her chair, arms folded across her chest and ponytail bouncing wildly as she settled.

"If I'm not needed..." Bruce didn't need to finish his sentence before Natasha nodded. She knew tension in the team was one of Dr Banner's least favourite things to deal with and just being around the fight had to have been a strain on his control of The Other Guy. Not that Natasha hadn't been tempted to let the Hulk knock some sense into all of them.

So Bruce darted away but Tony was lingering. He leant one shoulder against the wall, the Iron Man suit already disassembled from his body. "Take a seat if you want to help sort this out," Natasha gestured towards the head of the table.

"Please. As if I'd be the one to give guidance on relationship-related meltdowns." Tony's serious demeanour flipped into the patented Stark smirk. "I just wanted to tell Barton and Lolita over there that I completely approve of their illicit love affair." He tossed Darcy her glasses with a wink before following after Bruce. So while Darcy slid her glasses on, Natasha took the head seat and waited patiently.

Thor broke the terse silence first. "I apologise friend Barton. I mistook the situation and judged wrongly that you were committing an assault upon Darcy."

Clint nodded, shifting the icepack against his head. "Just bad timing. I get it. Probably would've done the same thing."

"So we're good?" added Natasha. Both men nodded to each other. "Great." Natasha began to push back from the table.

"Oh hell no," Darcy's sharp voice cut across the room. Her finger jutted out, pointing first at Thor then Steve. "They might be able to do the 'hey man, sorry I nearly brained you with a fifty pound weight' and shake it out. But I'm still waiting for my freaking apology." Slowly, everyone lowered back into their seats.

"I apologise, Darcy," Thor seemed to be searching for the correct words. "I mistook the situation and judged wrongly that my friend was committing an assault upon you."

"Almost right," Darcy huffed. "Better apology would be 'Sorry Darcy, next time I hear you destroying your vocal cords telling me to stop, I'll actually listen.'"

"I was caught in the moment," replied Thor. "It was already in my mind that you were in some form of dangerous situation and upon seeing you trying to wrestle free from a man, even if my ally, I had no focus other than removing the threat to your safety."

"Hold on," Clint interjected, a frown creasing his features. "Why did you think Darcy was in some kind of danger?"

Steve raised his hand, though a slight wince indicated he was feeling Clint's disarm manoeuvre from earlier. "My fault." And as the Captain slowly lowered his arm, he looked Clint square in the eye. "But to be honest, I'm not convinced she isn't."

Natasha had to restrain the urge to either bang her head into the table or to just use the Captain's head instead.

Clint was meeting Steve with an unblinking stare of his own. "Just so we're clear Captain, you were the one actually restraining Darcy against her will. Do that again and you'll find an arrow in your tendons."

"That's enough," Natasha finally snapped.

"See, this is exactly why we hadn't told anyone about us," Darcy huffed as she slouched in her chair.

"No," Nat fixed her glare on Darcy. "If the pair of you hadn't been sneaking around for the past two months, the boys could've dealt with their alpha protective urges without destroying the place."

"But..."

"But nothing." Darcy ended up looking away, clearly embarrassed. Clint reached for her hand and squeezed gently. Whereas Natasha was flexing her fingers to restrain the urge to strangle all of them. "Let's get this finished. Thor, you have anything to add?"

The Asgardian shook his head. "Nay."

"Then out." Natasha pointed at the door. After Thor had departed, Natasha's eyes settled on Steve. "Your turn, big brother."

There was a pained expression upon Steve's face before he straightened his shoulders and leant forward, his elbows resting on the table. "Clint, you're a solid teammate." Steve's tone was impassive, speaking as a solider. "I can trust you in battle and you're also my friend. But you can also kill in cold blood and have a history of death and violence. I don't like Darcy getting close to that. But..." Steve's attention turned to Darcy, who had already started to open her mouth to protest. "I have to trust her judgement and respect her decision. I should have done that from the start."

For Natasha and her years of learning how to read people, it was easy to identify the range of emotions playing out across Darcy's face. Anger diluted to frustration before softening into understanding.

"Well, despite the load of idiotic crap you just said about Clint... maybe I should've trusted you guys and just told you from the beginning." The apologetic smile that Darcy offered Steve was small and a little fragile, but was enough to leave Nat confident that with some time those two could get their friendship back to normal.

"So now we're good?" Natasha said.

Steve nodded. "I could give Barton the speech about how I'll kick his ass if he hurts Darcy but it seems a little redundant now."

"Pretty clear there'd be a line up for the ass-kicking," Clint said dryly. "Good thing it'll never happen."

And with that, the tension was finally gone. Natasha used a foot to push herself away from the table. "Now we've all agreed to play nice, I'm going for lunch."

Steve wheeled his chair back. "I should go start cleaning up the gym."

"We'll be there in a bit to help," said Clint. His hand had become obscured under the table and Darcy's seat had definitely been inched closer to his.

Natasha made sure to activate the lock on the door as she left.

* * *

"So," Clint said, giving Darcy's hand another squeeze. "That could've gone worse."

"Says the man who took a fifty pound weight to the cranium," Darcy sighed. "How's your head doing?"

Clint dropped the icepack onto the table and Darcy eased from her seat so she could stand over him, running her fingers through his hair and checking the spot where Thor's fist had almost connected. It meant having to release Clint's hand, but his warm palm soon found a spot on her thigh to settle upon while Darcy examined the bump.

"Pretty sure it just needs a kiss to make it better," she finally said, taking off her glasses before leaning down and pressing her lips lightly against his temple. But Clint had started to roll his chair around and both of his hands now cupped the back of her thighs; with insistent squeezes, he drew Darcy down until she was straddling his lap.

"You doing okay?" Clint asked. His fingers had found their way under Darcy's gym shirt and were tracing light trails across her skin. But even as the caress made Darcy's squirm, she knew Clint was also checking her back and waist, ensuring that she hadn't been bruised during the standoff. So she replied by grazing her lips along the line of his jaw before moving to tease light butterfly kisses against the corner of his mouth. "He was right, you know." Clint's words make Darcy pause. She leant back, though he still held her hips tight against his lap.

"Who was...?"

"Rogers. About me." It was a matter-of-fact statement.

"Shut up."

"Darce..."

Darcy clutched his shoulders tightly. "Shut. Up." Blue eyes met his. "I don't care what you've done or what you do on missions. I still love you." Silence hung in the air between them. "After all..." Darcy felt a nervous babble starting. "I'm the terrible girlfriend who almost got you beaten..."

With his hands still gripping her thighs, Clint stood and carried Darcy to the edge of the table. As soon as her ass hit the hard surface, Clint found the hem of her shirt and tugged. Darcy lifted her arms, feeling the cool air hit her as the fabric was peeled away. While Clint unhooked her bra, she reached for his tank top, yanking it over his head. As soon as his arms were free, Clint pulled Darcy to him again, gripping her around her shoulders and hips and pressing their warm, bare skin together. Their mouths met in an urgent, needy kiss; lips parting to capture and nip at each other. Darcy curled one leg to hook around his back and Clint tightened his hold on her hips. As their bodies ground together, the kiss broke for a moment while Clint's mouth found the curve of her neck. As his lips drew on the sensitive skin, a shudder ran down Darcy's body.

"Do I still have to worry about hickey placements?" Clint murmured while his tongue soothed over the spot on Darcy's throat.

"No," Darcy managed to whimper out. She swore she felt him smile against her neck.

"Then it was definitely worth taking a god's fist to the head." A calloused finger slipped beneath the elastic of her shorts. "Now, for a different way of saying 'I love you too'..."


	4. Epilogue

_Some years later..._

Loki was up to something again. In the country known as Belarus, Thor's brother had made a base in an abandoned castle though his actual plans still remained a mystery. So far no hostile attack had been undertaken but as Thor surveyed the castle from a secluded post he still found himself irritated. Jane was with child and he wished to be by her side. His wife had developed many tastes recently and he feared the impact it could have on their developing offspring if she was not able to obtain the chocolate-coated bacon she requested on a daily basis.

Captain Rogers and Agent Hawkeye slipped through the shadows, crouching beside Thor. "Well?" he asked, trying to restrain his impatience.

"There are guards on all entrances. Look to be hired mortals. We could get in with little impact." The Captain's report was brief, though his comrade did not seem overly concerned. It was a somewhat old castle and apparently easy to breach

Barton leant back on his heels, bow resting on his thighs. "Let's not take too long with this. Loki's prison cell on Asgard is getting cold."

"A few more hours," Rogers countered. "Give the guards a little time to become complacent. If they're just doing a job, we want to keep their injuries to a minimum."

"Let us wait here then," Thor agreed.

The three men sat in silence for awhile, their focus on surveying the castle. After an hour, one of Clint's pockets vibrated. He checked his phone briefly before sliding it away. "Darcy says everything is still fine at home but don't bother bringing any more bacon back. Jane wants salmon now."

"With the chocolate coating?" Thor hoped this transition from swine to fish was still a sign their child was growing well.

"Sure," Clint nodded. But the Captain's wry smile informed Thor that Barton was using untruths as entertainment again. The Earth customs and behaviours were becoming ever more familiar to him.

"It is still a shame that Jane and mine child will be without playmates when it arrives." Thor paused as he looked towards Barton. "Perhaps you should encourage Darcy to bear your child, my friend."

Clint simply raised an eyebrow. The Captain however made a strangled noise.

"Look," Rogers said, holding up his hands as if in defeat. "I know I'm old fashioned. But would you at least consider doing it the right way around and marrying Darcy first?"

Rubbing his chin, Barton looked up towards the night sky as if considering the idea. "Well. I hadn't planned on doing this in a former Soviet bloc but since it's come up..." He put his bow aside and rummaged in a pocket on his combat cargo pants before pulling out a small velvet ring box. Still sitting on his haunches, Clint flipped open the box lid and a delicate diamond ring blinked in the dim starlight. "As Darcy's dad isn't in her life, I figure you two are going to have to do. So. Thor of Asgard and Captain Steve Rogers. Do I have your permission to ask Darcy Lewis to marry me?"


End file.
